The Nature of Kaled
by Rose Oswald
Summary: Seeing the Daleks, a guard of Davros's bunker notices that the impacts of the invention hit too close to home for comfort; he takes action, evacuating his family from the Kaled dome, bravely facing Mutos and other unknown threats that come with leaving it. Set during and after the events of Genesis of the Daleks. Rated K for pregnancy/safety. Eventual CaanxOC (Schroeder/Lucy).


Turat was standing guard at a door in the bunker below the Kaled dome, staring at a wall until someone needed into the room he was standing in front of for about two hours now. He'll admit that it wasn't an especially fun job, but it paid the bills for his growing family. He had noticed that several other Kaleds were streaming into the room he was guarding. In the past five minutes, he had let a total of 11 people into the room, which was a lot considering the amount of people allowed clearance into the bunker. He wondered what was going on. After a while, the incoming crowd died down. He figured Davros had something to say, and he was actually just about to dismiss the idea when he came around the corner with something following him that looked something like a pepper shaker. He opened the door for Davros, who had immediate clearance, and figured the thing would follow him, but it didn't. It sat at the threshold. "I will open the door for the presentation of my Mark III Travel Machine in a few minutes. Do not let anyone go near this area," he ordered him. Turat saluted wordlessly as the door closed. While he was guarding, he couldn't help but stare at this new…thing. He had known about the project, but this was what it was? What's inside it? The door opened before he could think of anything else. The pepper shaker glided through at Davros's command. As the scientists applauded his feat of voice command, Davros mentioned something about using living cells to create the "ultimate mutant form" of the Kaled species. Turat wondered where these living cells were coming from. Then Davros mentioned another part of the project. The new creature will be called a Dalek. Why was it an anagram of Kaled? What did this new name mean? As he pondered this, the meeting concluded and Davros exited the room with the project. "You are dismissed. Have a nice day."

Happy with the sudden day off, Turat cheerfully walked out of the bunker and to his home in the Kaled dome. Checking his watch, he figured the kids would be getting out of school right about now. Carrying his blue lunchbox he had chosen out of his massive assortment, he crossed a narrow alley and finally got to his home. Due to the war and lack of space, his home had been divided in half by a large, soundproof wall to make room for another Kaled family. He had never really met them, but he was still mad at them for taking up half of his house. He walked in the front door to see his kids sitting at the table doing their assignments and his wife in a chair with a piece of paper, looking as if she is about to cry. He rushed over and kneeled in front of her.

"What's wrong? Is the baby bothering you again?" he put his hand on her swollen stomach, as if to caress the baby inside and calm it down. It was in vain.

"She's only mad because I'm scared," Rilene, the love of his life, admitted. She handed him the paper, "Read this."

He took the paper and read it silently, for fear of what it might say:

_Parents and/or guardians,_

_Today an order was passed by the government that gives the lead scientist Davros access to all Kaled children at and under the age of 7 for special experimental training that could bring an end to the Thals. Due to the security necessities of this training, children enlisted for it will not be allowed to return to their former homes after collection. All youth who fit these requirements will be gathered while they are at school tomorrow by the military. Be sure they attend this day; military will take the rest of them by force if this order is not accepted, and any Kaled whosoever that continues to withhold a child will be exterminated on site._

_Thank you,  
Kaled School District_

Turat stared at the paper for a while before it registered within his mind. A single tear dripped down his face, staining the note. Wiacaan, his youngest son, was going to be a part of project Dalek. There was no other explanation for this; there was nothing else going on that would be that secretive. He turned to his wife and simply stated, "Get the kids and your things. We're leaving tonight."

"But where will we go? The mutos will kill us if we try to set up camp in their territory, plus all of the radiation out there would hurt the kids."

"We won't stay there, then. We could steal a boat and explore new lands. There's one on the Ocean of Ooze that they haven't used for a while, we can pilot that if it still works and find a place on this planet that isn't decimated with war."

"We'll die out there. Who knows if there's even a habitable place out of this dome for Kaleds."

"I don't know either, but I've seen what the training is. They call them Daleks when they're done with them. It's supposed to be the Kaled race's ultimate mutated form, according to Davros, I guarantee that's where all the children are going to go. I will not let my family be taken by the project, don't worry."

Rilene didn't even respond; she had already run into their bedroom to throw some clothes and other things in a bag, including baby clothes of Wiacaan's and some she had bought only a few days ago in preparation for the baby. Turat explained to Wiacaan and Secelon what was going on; even though Secelon was older and not eligible, but he could still be in the next collection. The elite scientists were basically the government, so it was entirely possible that they could turn all Kaleds into Daleks if they got the resources. He tried to be as gentle as possible explaining this, but he figured that Secelon got the message, and could explain it to Wiacaan when he got older if he didn't get it right then. Secelon was 9, only 3 years before adulthood, so he was perfectly capable. He needed to be.

Turat finished packing all of the food he could carry into all of his spare lunchboxes, even the ones that were broken, and tied them together by their handles so he could carry it over his shoulder like a large sack. He was sure Rilene had thrown some clothes in a bag for him, so he went to the kids' bedroom and helped them to hurry and pack. Wiacaan had insisted on bringing his collection of asteroids from "other planets", which took up a lot of space in the bag, so Turat suggested that he carried them in a separate bag instead. Wiacaan eventually found one and all was well.

When the boys were finally packed, Turat led the way down the road. He kept thinking that he saw a shadow following them out of the city, but then concluded that there was no possible way and continued to move forward. Secelon had no trouble keeping up with him, but Rilene and Wiacaan could not move as fast. They stayed several feet behind and eventually met up with the others at the exit of the dome. Nervous, Turat tried to turn the wheel that would open the door, but it was rusted shut from lack of use. He eventually found an abandoned metal rod that had not been collected by the recycling committee and used it to pry open the door. When it slowly creaked open, a cloud of what looked like steam streamed in. Turat knew better—it was radioactive smoke from the most recent bomb the Thals had inflicted on the Kaled, but it had only affected the outside because the dome was so strong. He ordered his family to cover their noses and mouths with their shirts; it was his soldier instinct kicking in to prevent the inhalation of the smoke. He'd need it for the rest of this trip, and he was thankful for it. They walked into the smog barely even able to breathe or see 5 feet in front of them. Turat led the way and made sure he kept within grabbing distance of the rest of his family. They were out of sight, moving in the opposite direction of the wastelands between the Kaled and the Thal domes, when Rilene pointed out a figure in the distance. Turat knew better than to go towards it, since it probably didn't like Norms. He adjusted their path and continued to move.

"Wiacaan!" Secelon screamed, "Don't poke me!"

"But Zhoem told me to!"

"You're too old for imaginary friends. If he tells you to bug me again I'll get an imaginary gun and blow him up."

"Both of you be quiet if you want to live," Turat whispered. He saw the figure move closer to them until he sensed that it was within jumping distance. The boys got the drift and were silent, "Now, when I say go, Secelon and I will run to what I think is a tree over there. Whatever is following us will go after what it can see, so Wiacaan and Rilene need to stay here and make as little motion as possible," he said in an even lower voice, "Go!" He and Secelon took off toward the supposed tree. Wiacaan held his mom's hand and stayed close to her. They heard a loud scream followed by a thud, followed by Turat and Secelon returning to the group. Secelon looked horrified, but Turat's expression clarified that there wasn't anything to worry about anymore. Continuing on their journey, they noticed the sun going down by the radient red-orange color the sky amplified right before it got dark. Turat went a little further away and called the others over to him. He had found a small clearing that he could set up an air filter in for the night. He took some of his shirts that Rilene had packed and stretched them tight, taking petrified sticks from the dead forest they were in to use as tent poles.

When he was done, he had a makeshift tent that probably wouldn't protect from much else besides the air, but it would have to do. He used the bags to pin the bottoms of the tent for a smog-tight seal, making a small but elective filter. He opened one of his lunchboxes to reveal some jerky and gave each of his family a small piece. When he gave his wife two, Wiacaan asked why she got more than he did. "It's for Nyere," Turat explained, naming the unborn baby to his son, "Just be thankful we even have food. We might not in the next few weeks." Wiacaan ate the rest of his jerky in silence.

Secelon volunteered to take the first watch, but seeing the fear in his eyes, Turat stayed up with him while his wife and other son slept. While they had to be quiet to allow for the others to sleep, they kept themselves alert by playing Turat's silent version of "I spy" with different shapes in the petrified trees. Secelon kept seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, but he dismissed it when he turned and saw nothing but smog. Eventually, he fell asleep, leaving Turat to guard on his own for the rest of the night, his soldier instinct being the only thing keeping him awake.

When Secelon woke up, he was the only one still in the tent. Rilene and Wiacaan had already made a fire with Turat's firewood he had gathered in the early hours. Secelon smelled the tantalizing aroma of guhna, strips of meat fried in grease. He knew it was so unhealthy, but he never craved it more than he did then. When it was done, Rilene gave him a piece and he bit into it. After the first bite, he savored it more, knowing that was probably the most food he would get for a while. He was glad his school required survival as one of the classes he had to take. He helped his father take down the tent while Wiacaan and his mother cleaned up the fire pit so that no one would know that they were there.

Turat continued the trek for about an hour when they finally saw the smog clearing up. After another few minutes, they were able to see to the horizons without difficulty. At the very edge, Turat could make out the ocean with a line of ships and let out a sigh of relief. Secelon could see it, as well, so he ran back to the slower two and told them that they were almost there, and stayed with them for the rest of the walk.

They finally reached the fleet of boats only to find that none of them were even able to stay afloat. Turat was out of ideas; they had never trained him to know how to fix a boat, or anything on the water for that matter. The war was exclusively on land, and he was much too tired after staying up all night the night before. Secelon saw the look of dismay on his father's face and took charge, "Okay, so we need to scan each of these boats to figure out which one will be the easiest to repair. Once we get that settled, we need to find materials to repair it," he ordered, taking after his father when it came to leadership.

Turat, thankful that Secelon had the sleep he did before, followed him onto the first ship in a line of about 20 ships. It was a battle cruiser with several missile launchers on its sides. While the bottom was almost completely gone and resting on the floor of the bay, there were large shards of metal that Secelon was quick to pull out of the hull and throw onto the beach. Maybe they could use them to patch another ship. The next few had several issues, from a missing bottom to the rest of it being decimated. Each of them, however, provided more and more supplies to fix the chosen ship. Turat even found a blowtorch on one—good for welding. The 12th ship they entered was the best one they had seen. There were some holes in it, and the top was destroyed, but the propeller was intact, as well as most of the wiring connecting to it. Secelon enlisted the help of Wiacaan while Turat took a break and kept Rilene company. Secelon greeted Wiacaan at the top of the ship and told him to start bringing the scrap metal into the hull.

Meanwhile, Turat hugged Rilene, "I can't believe we're almost out of here. Nyere is going to have so much fun wherever we end up."

"That's sort of what I wanted to tell you. I've been having contractions. Not bad, but they're there and they're getting stronger."

"Why don't you lie down for a while? Use one of the bags as a pillow. I'll help the boys and we'll cast off as soon as we can," Turat reassured. He got the boys' bag of clothes and laid it on the ground for her. She settled into her new bed and watched the boys work. Once the metal was welded onto the bottom, Secelon found a bucket and made Wiacaan carry water out of the boat. While he was doing that, Secelon helped his father check the engine and the propeller. They seemed operational, but there were some wires that looked questionable as to their safety, so Secelon used the torch to melt them so they didn't come apart; his father's hand wasn't steady enough, and it was clear that he needed sleep. Once it was in order, Turat walked back over to Rilene to rest and Secelon helped Wiacaan with the water buckets.

It took the rest of the day to get most of the water out, and they still needed to load the ship with the food they had brought with and perhaps forage for some. Turat slowly helped Rilene up the ladder on the side of the ship so that they could spend the night in safety. He spread out a blanket on top of some dead leaves that the boys had gathered; after all, there were no living leaves anymore because of the war. As the sun set, an explosion could be seen over the horizon.

"What do you think that was?" Rilene asked her husband.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it was big. Perhaps the Thals really did blow up the Kaled dome. If they did, it would be a blessing if they hit the bunker, as well. They would have saved this planet from a reign of terror if they did."

"Could they have?"

"I don't think so. It's buried to the point where nothing can hurt it from the surface."

"Well, at least we're away from there."

"Yes. You need to get some rest," he told her. She snuggled up against him as he scanned the ground around the boat one more time. He saw something move in the darkness, but dismissed it from his lack of sleep. He felt his wife's warmth beside him, and he laid his head down, letting it soothe himself to sleep.


End file.
